


Caring

by twinsarein



Category: White Collar
Genre: First Time, Het and Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, Multi, Rimming, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-02
Updated: 2012-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-11 06:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/pseuds/twinsarein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Elizabeth take care of Neal when he’s sick, and make him an offer when he’s better</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caring

Neal rouses himself from his fever induced stupor when he feels a soft, cool hand stroking his brow. “Wha...?”

“Shhh, Neal. Don’t worry. We’re going to bring you to our home and take care of you.”

Squinting against even the low light in the room, Neal looks up to see Elizabeth’s caring face staring down at him. “No. Peter wouldn’t want--”

His slurred voice cuts off when a heavier hand comes down on his shoulder. “Peter does want. In fact, Peter insists. El’s already packed a bag for you. You can’t stay here while you’re this sick, Neal. June and her granddaughter are both out of town, and we passed Mozzie as we were coming in. He was saying something about getting you a special herbal tea blend. Do you really want to be here for that?”

A shudder works down Neal’s weakened body in reply to Peter’s question. He’s had Mozzie’s special teas before; they are always worse than whatever you’re taking them for. Still, they can’t mean it. They’re just feeling sorry for him. Opening his mouth to protest once more, he isn’t given a chance before Peter’s hands are working under his supine body and lifting.

Struggling weakly against the hold, Neal tries to push away and get down. “Cn walk; lemme dwn.”

“Walk? You can barely speak. Stop fighting me, and conserve your strength.”

Peter’s order has Neal subsiding with a sigh, but it’s the feel of Elizabeth’s hand on the small of his back, as he’s cradled against Peter’s chest, that has him relaxing into the hold.

The car ride to the Burke house in the suburbs is a blur of a soft lap, the soothing scent of Elizabeth, and cool hands. Neal doesn’t remember much about getting into the house either, other than the sense of lifting and movement, again. He vaguely remembers being lowered onto a small, but comfortable bed, in a room painted a light green.

After that, all Neal remembers is hands soothing him, a strong chest to lean against as he is spoon-fed warm soup and cool liquids, and a washcloth running over him, taking the worst of the heat away.

When Neal finally wakes up, he is alone in the room, although there is evidence that he hasn’t been that way for long. A bowl of soup sits on a small table beside the bed, and steam is still rising from it. Sitting up in the bed is harder than he’d like, especially with all of the blankets and quilts on top of him. Neal hates the weakness that causes his hands to tremble when he lifts the bowl, but he’s inordinately proud when doesn’t spill any. Bringing the bowl to below his chin, he slowly starts to feed himself.

It feels way too long since he’s done this, and he wonders how long he’s been out. Trying to sift through his memories of the time he was sick proves to be impossible. It’s just as frustrating a process as sitting up had been. He has vague recollections of being cared for, and has the feeling that it had been both Peter and Elizabeth helping him, but he can’t recall who did what or for how long.

To hopefully make himself feel better, Neal starts to go through some of his contingency plans if things with the FBI ever fall through. They’ve been good for almost two years, but Neal almost never feels as if he’s safe from being sent back to prison. The mental exercise does help. While his body is weak, his mind seems clear, which is something to be grateful for.

Finishing what he finds is just broth, not soup, Neal suddenly realizes that he’s feeling the call of nature, and has been for some time. The broth and his mental exercises had distracted him from the need, at first. Fighting free of all the covers on top of him, Neal swings his feet to the floor and starts to stand.

A wave of dizziness engulfs him, and he falls back to the bed. Gasping for breath, Neal lays there, clenching his hands into fists as the hated weakness slaps him in the face, again. With determination, Neal moves more slowly, and this time is able to gain his feet. Moving just as slowly, he moves towards a door in the room which he hopes is a bathroom, and not a closet.

Luckily, it is. As quickly as he can, Neal does his business, and then turns and heads back to bed. He’s shaking all over, and he doesn’t take more than a step or two before he all but falls against the bathroom’s door jamb. Closing his eyes, he takes a few deep breaths, trying to gather some strength to make it the ten feet to the bed.

While he’s standing...leaning...there, the outer door opens, and he hears a soft exclamation, and then hurried footsteps. She’s at his side before he can even force his eyes open. “I knew I shouldn’t have left when I did. I could tell you were going to be waking up soon, but I thought I had time to see Peter off, but then the phone rang. I’m so sorry.”

In spite of the trouble they’d given him in the bathroom, Neal is suddenly grateful that someone had left him in a pair of underwear. It’s awkward enough being so close to nude while Elizabeth works her shoulder under his arm and tries to help him back to the bed as she almost babbles her apology.

Hating that he needs her help, but knowing that he won’t get back to bed in one piece without it, Neal does his best to put as little of his weight on her smaller body as possible. She proves she doesn’t need that sort of consideration when they get to the bed - she ducks from underneath him, and has him lying down with his feet tucked under the blankets before he can blink. It leaves him dizzy again, but her point is made, and he’s lying down, so the dizziness is a moot point.

Looking up at her with an apology in his eyes, Neal is surprised to see a look he’s never had her direct at him before. She covers it up quickly, and he figures the desire he saw in her eyes was just a trick of his illness. “Don’t worry about it, Elizabeth. You can’t be here twenty-four seven. Besides, I did manage to feed myself. Um, you said Peter was called away?”

His question comes out much more plaintively than he’d planned or expected, and Neal snaps his mouth shut after hearing his tone. She heard it, though, and with a smile, she reaches up and runs a hand through the hair falling into his eyes, effectively pushing it back. “Yes, but he’ll be back, tonight, barring any bureau emergency. He was sorry he couldn’t be here when you woke up, but he’s taken more sick time in the last two days than he has in the last two years.”

“He...he was here, too?” The vulnerability in his voice shocks Neal, and he gives himself a stern, mental talking to. He can’t afford to let that through so visibly. He considers himself lucky that Elizabeth had been the only one to hear it, although he’s uncomfortable enough that she had.

The soothing hand on his brow doesn’t hesitate or hitch in its stroking, however. “Yes, almost the entire three days you were out. He went in today to clear up some paperwork, and seems to feel that he’ll be back before dinner, tonight. Meanwhile, now that your fever is completely gone, why don’t you get some more rest. I’ll have some toast and juice ready for you, the next time you wake up.”

Neal wants to protest, he’s been sleeping for three days after all, but he’s already losing the battle to keep his eyes open, so he simply smiles at her. Or, at least, he starts to. He drifts off before he can complete the gesture.

The next time he wakes up, the promised toast and juice are both there, and he’s alone again. He’s able to sit up much more easily, this time, and while his hand still trembles while he lifts his plate or cup, Neal feels it isn’t as strongly as before. He’s even able to get to and from the bathroom under his own power.

Although, by the time he gets back to bed, he barely makes it back under the covers before he’s asleep again. The third time he awakens, the sunlight through the curtains is muted, he’s feeling much stronger, and Peter is coming through the door carrying a tray.

“Peter!” Neal stares at the man he’s never seen less than fully dressed, and finds it uncomfortable on a number of levels to see him in nothing but a robe. He doesn’t even have slippers on his feet. Neal is glad he’s been sick for the last several days, or he might start showing some giveaway reaction to the lack of Peter’s clothing, not to mention his own state of undress under the covers.

Peter looks over at him with a smile, as he puts the tray down on a small table. “Well, look who’s feeling all bright-eyed, this evening. I was starting to think you were liking the attention you were getting too much to get better.”

“Yeah, about that... You and Elizabeth really shouldn’t have--”

“Not another word, Neal. We weren’t going to leave you alone while you were that sick. You had us worried for a while. One more day, and we’d have taken you to the hospital.”

Peter stares at him intently, and Neal has to fight not to squirm under the gaze, but Peter doesn’t relent until Neal gives a small nod of his head.

Once he does, Peter turns away, and takes two wine glasses off of the tray before bringing it over to Neal. “El says you’ve been up a couple of times today, and you’ve eaten some things, so she’s got slightly more substantial food for you, now. Up you go. Let’s see how you do at sitting.”

Moving with alacrity at Peter’s order, Neal struggles upright, although it’s much easier now, than earlier today. Peter sets an elevated tray over his lap, and Neal stares down at it, realizing right then just how hungry he is. “This looks so good, Peter. You two have really gone above and beyond in taking care of me. I appreciate it. What are the glasses on the table for?”

At the tail end of his question, Elizabeth comes in, carrying a bottle of wine. She’s also dressed in a robe. “Peter and I are going to keep you company while you eat. We already ate, downstairs. We didn’t want the smell of the heavier food we were eating to affect your appetite.”

Making sure to not look anywhere but the wine Elizabeth is already pouring out, Neal tries to convince himself that’s what he’s longing for. It’s hard to tell from here, but it does look like a good vintage; Peter might have abysmal taste in wines, but Elizabeth does not, and Neal is sure it would taste much better than the chicken noodle soup on his tray, no matter how hardier than the broth it looks.

When Peter sends him a quelling look, Neal subsides without a word, and he knows he definitely isn’t at a hundred percent when he feels a shiver work its way down his body at the stare Peter levels at him, this time. Picking up his spoon, Neal sips some soup, and can’t help the small moan that escapes. It’s the best soup he’s ever tasted.

Both Elizabeth and Peter shoot him an amused look, but Neal is enjoying his meal too much to be embarrassed. “I take it you’re enjoying the soup El made?”

At that, Neal forces himself to put his spoon down, and look over at the two of them. He quickly takes in their picture of perfect domesticity, obviously ready for bed after they’re done keeping him company, and ruthlessly suppresses the longing he feels, once again. It had been hard enough when it had just been Peter filling his thoughts, but both of them... “You made this soup, Elizabeth? It's delicious. Thank you for sharing some with me.”

Getting up from her seat, Elizabeth crosses to the bed, rearranges the pillows more comfortably behind him, and then leans down and brushes a kiss across his forehead. “I’m not sharing it with you; I made it for you.”

Flustered by the caring shown by the distinction, and even more by the kiss, Neal darts a glance over at Peter. Only to find him giving them both a fond look. Even more flustered, Neal looks down at his soup as he mumbles another thank you.

Stroking a hand over the crown of his head, Elizabeth goes to sit down as if nothing is out of the ordinary. She starts regaling him and Peter with some stories of her more eccentric clients, and Peter gives him a rundown of what he’d missed at the Bureau the last few days. Before Neal knows it, he’s relaxed enough to start eating again, and polishes off several crackers, half the bowl of soup, and two strawberries in only a few minutes.

Leaning back against his pillows, Neal lets out a small sigh of satisfaction. He wishes he could have eaten more of that excellent soup, but he realizes that his appetite is still down, and if he keeps eating, he’s going to feel uncomfortable and might start feeling sick again. So, he pushes the tray a few inches away with regret and closes his eyes.

A chair at the table scrapes softly over the carpeted floor, and heavy footsteps let him know that Peter is coming over. “I take it you’re done?”

“Yeah.” Opening his eyes, he directs his next comment across the room. “Don’t think it wasn’t delicious, Elizabeth, I’m just full.”

Coming to his side as well, Elizabeth lifts the tray and carries it over to the table. “I understand completely, Neal. Don’t give it another thought. Now, however, we need to move on to the next portion of the evening.”

“Next porti--” Before Neal can complete his sentence, Peter is whisking his blankets away. Starting in surprise, Neal reflexively tries to cover himself, darting Peter a nervous glance since his wife is still in the room.

However, Peter just puts his hands under Neal’s arms and hefts him to his feet. “I know you’re almost naked, Neal. Who do you think stripped you down, after all? Besides, it isn’t anything we haven’t seen during the numerous sponge baths we’ve given you over the last few days.”

“Sponge baths?” His question is squeaked out, but whether that’s because Peter has put an arm around his bare waist or at the idea of the two of them giving him sponge baths, Neal will never admit to.

“Mmmhmm, and we figured that you might be feeling the need for a chance to get really clean. Unfortunately, El and I don’t have a bathtub, so you’ll have to settle for a shower.”

Until Peter had said it, Neal hasn’t noticed how grungy he’d been feeling, but now that it’s out there, suddenly he craves a shower more than just about anything else. He isn’t sure he’s strong enough to stand up, but he’s not about to tell Peter that. He’ll lean against the wall or sit on the shower floor if he has to, but he needs to get clean.

Lost in thought, he doesn’t even think about where Peter is taking him, until they are walking through another bedroom, one with a much bigger bed than his. He’s kind of surprised that Peter would indulge in such a luxury as a king-size, but he’s even more surprised when he gets his first look at their shower.

It’s a walk-in, enclosed on four sides with clear glass, with four shower nozzles, and a narrow, slightly raised platform against one side that Neal can’t figure out the purpose of. He stares at it in puzzlement while, in the background of his awareness, he hears Peter turning on the water and adjusting the spray.

“Okay, Neal. Time to get in.”

When he feels big, callused hands on his hips, pulling down his underwear, he starts in shock and almost falls over. “P...Peter?”

Steadying him, Peter gives him a look, as though he expects Neal to be smarter than this. Right now, though, Neal’s feeling as smart as a sea slug, and about as fast. “Trust me, Neal. It’ll be okay. Besides, you’re still too weak to take an entire shower by yourself, and there is no way I’ll take the chance on you falling over. ”

Not giving him a chance to protest, Peter shucks his robe and hustles Neal into the shower, a supporting hand at his back. At the first feel of the hot spray, Neal moans and closes his eyes. He sways on his feet, and almost doesn’t register Peter’s voice in his ear, telling him to be careful. He sure as hell notices when Peter’s arms wrap around him, though, and pulls him back against Peter’s slightly bigger, nude body.

The hair-roughened skin and hard muscles make him shiver and gasp, and he turns his head to look up through wet lashes at Peter. “Wha...what’s going on? I don’t understand.”

Dipping his head, Peter brushes his lips across Neal’s, making him jump in surprise again. Only Peter’s arm around him keeps him upright. “It’s simple. We want to take care of you.”

Befuddled though his brain is, Neal latches on to the most important word. “We?”

The opening of the wide shower door has Neal turning his head in shock, because it can only be one person. Stiffening in Peter’s grasp, Neal takes in Elizabeth’s nude form, feeling himself stiffening in another area, and he quickly turns his head away and closes his eyes, willing it to subside.

“Hun, have you explained what’s going on at all?”

Neal can feel Peter shrug his shoulders, and in a sheepish voice he answers his wife. “I told him we want to take care of him.”

Elizabeth gives a huff of annoyance. “Of course you did. But did you explain that we both want him, that we want him as part of our family?”

An indefinable noise comes from Peter, but Elizabeth seems to get it. Neal is glad one of them does. Then she’s putting down a light plastic seat Neal hadn’t even noticed she’d carried in with her, and she gently guides him to sit down in it.

Once he’s seated, she grabs a can of shaving cream, puts some in her hand, and expertly starts to apply it to his face. As she works, she talks to him. “We’ve been looking for a third to bring into out relationship for a long time, but we never found anyone we thought would fit with us until you.”

Tipping his head back, she draws the safety razor over his skin in a slow, sensual glide. Neal’s lips part with the surge of want that goes through him, but he’s not sure if it’s a physical desire for the people in the shower or emotional desire to be a part of what she’s offering. As she continues to shave him, he’s pretty sure it’s both. “We’d talked together about bringing you in before, but we never would have approached you until your anklet was off, because we didn’t want there to be any taint or hint of coercion if you came to us.”

Even though he’s looking at Elizabeth, Neal is still very aware of Peter standing at his back, hands on his shoulders as his wife shaves him. “W-what changed?”

Turning his face this way and that, tipping it back into the spray to clean off the leftover cream, Elizabeth strokes the back of her hand down his face, and nods her satisfaction. Then, she urges him to his feet, pushing the seat out of the way as she does. When that’s done, she steps up flush against him so he can feel the press of her breasts on his torso. “Tell him, hun.”

With Peter’s arms wrapping around him more firmly, hot water cascading against his skin, Elizabeth’s nude body pressed to his front, Neal almost wishes he could take back his question. He likes whatever is happening, and doesn’t want to chance messing it up. Still, he waits for the answer.

A nip at his ear makes him shudder, and when Peter grabs a bottle of shampoo and starts massaging it into his hair, Neal can’t help moaning with both bliss and arousal. “While you were sick, you got delirious. The things you said about me and El were very eye-opening, and just what we needed to hear to know our advances, maybe even our proposition, would be welcome.”

Finishing with the shampoo, Neal can feel Peter carding his hands through his hair to get the soap out. Once it’s gone, he drops his arms and slowly, making sure Neal is stable on his feet, steps back. Neal starts to turn in curiosity, but Elizabeth stops him with a gentle hand on his chest. “If you don’t want this, though, tell us now, Neal. We want you, but not if it’s something you don’t want, too.”

Reaching behind him, Neal grabs one of Peter’s hands by feel and grasps one of Elizabeth’s as well, using the grips to pull them closer. “Please.”

It’s just one word, but it’s enough. Two sets of arms enfold him and hold him close. Relaxing against Peter’s body, Neal nuzzles his face into the crook of Elizabeth’s neck, hardly able to believe he’s allowed either action.

After a couple of minutes, Elizabeth shifts against him, and the feel of her wet, curvy body moving on his makes him moan. It seems to be a signal, because Peter leans over him to kiss Elizabeth. Neal doesn’t mind being trapped between them, at all. When he pulls away, they stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and seem to silently come to some sort of agreement.

Grasping Neal by the shoulders, Peter turns him around, and pulls him back against his body. “Brace yourself on me, Neal. We’re going to thoroughly wash you.”

The thought of their hands all over him makes Neal shiver, hard, and he’s unable to hide the more obvious sign of his enjoyment growing against Peter’s belly. Besides looking down at Neal with a predatory gleam of pleasure in his eyes, however, the only other thing Peter does is to fill his hands with a soapy gel.

Coating his hands, Peter starts rubbing them on Neal’s back, his strokes cleaning Neal’s skin, but also sensitizing it and making Neal moan. He makes his way down Neal’s back, and Neal doesn’t think he misses a single inch. Pausing for a moment to get more soap, he works over the swell of Neal’s ass. The feel of those big hands on him, cupping him, makes Neal moan again.

Once Peter is washing his ass, Elizabeth puts her smaller, smoother hands on him, helping the water to wash the soap off. The four hands moving on his body makes a little whimper escape Neal’s mouth, and Peter dips his head a little, to speak just above his ear, his breath caressing the outer shell. “That’s it. Give it all up for us. Let us give you pleasure.”

Neal’s ears have always been extremely sensitive, and he shudders violently at the feel of it, the shiver made even harder at knowing its because of Peter. Elizabeth’s mouth starts moving over his back, exploring it as thoroughly as Peter had done with his hands, and Neal moves restlessly under their ministrations.

Peter fills his hands with soap again, and slides them between Neal’s ass cheeks. One hand holds him open, and the other rubs down his center, making pass after pass. Then, he uses just the tips of his fingers, the callused tips just a little abrasive on Neal’s tender skin. Finally, he uses just one finger to tickle over Neal’s hole, until even Neal can feel it relaxing for him, almost begging to be filled. Peter obliges, but with only the tip. Opening Neal just the slightest bit, and then leaving it there, as Elizabeth’s mouth burns a trail down his back, continuing to wash the soap away with her hands.

Widening his stance, Neal tries to silently encourage Peter to go deeper, and Elizabeth to not stop. Peter doesn’t go any deeper, but Elizabeth does continuing using her mouth, going lower and lower, until it’s obvious she’s following the path of Peter’s hands. Neal trembles with anticipation when Peter removes his finger, and she glides her mouth over the curve of his ass.

Even half ready for it, Neal gasps and moans at the first feel of her mouth on him there. He’s never had a partner who’d done that before, and he goes limp against Peter, trusting him utterly to hold him up, because he’s not sure he can get his muscles to cooperate. Peter does, hands on his ass managing to spread him wider for Elizabeth’s searching mouth. She takes advantage of the extra room to do something with her lips and tongue that has him seeing stars. “Oh, he likes whatever you just did, El. Do it again.”

Almost losing it when Elizabeth does just that, Neal can feel his cock throbbing between his legs, and tries to find the muscle control to rub against Peter. He makes a frustrated sound when he can’t quite do it. “Mmm, I like the sounds you make, Neal. I can’t wait to see what else El and I can drag out of you.”

Again, there appears to be a secret signal between them, because Elizabeth is leaning away from him and getting gracefully to her feet just a split second before Peter turns him in his arms. Now, there is no way to hide just how turned on the two of them have made him, his cock jutting straight out from between his legs.

It feels like there is a steel rod poking him in the back, though, and Neal is glad to know that he isn’t the only one affected by this, that Peter is as hard as he is. Once again he wishes it is easier to tell with women how aroused they are. He can only hope she’s enjoying herself. When he tries to reach for her, though, she shakes her head and seems to read his mind. “This time is for you. But don’t worry, Neal, I can assure you I am fully enjoying myself.”

Peter fills his cupped hand with more soap, and starts circling Neal’s chest, cleaning and massaging the front of his body, now. Peter’s hands rub his shoulders, the base of his neck, and circles his nipples. His nipples aren’t as sensitive as his ears, but at this point almost every part of his body is feeling each individual touch tenfold.

Thrusting his hips into the air, Neal can’t stop moaning as the four hands seem to be everywhere on his torso, with Peter starting to run the tip of his tongue over the shell of Neal’s ear. When Peter gets more soap and reaches down to fondle his cock and balls, and Elizabeth bends forward to nip and suck on one of his nipples, Neal knows he’s done. With a cry, he thrusts into Peter’s grip, hand coming up to land on the back of Elizabeth’s head.

Peter sucks on his earlobe, scoring it gently with his teeth, and when Elizabeth does almost the exact same thing to one of his nipples, Neal feels his eyes roll to the back of his head as his body starts to shake uncontrollably as jet after jet of come spurts from the tip of his cock.

With his orgasm, any strength Neal had in his limbs is completely gone. He sags back against Peter, and would have fallen if not for his hold. “Whoa, there. I’ve got you, Neal. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

He bends, one arm across his back and the other sliding down Neal’s body, and Neal knows Peter is about to lift him again. With weak, spaghetti arms, he stops him. “No. You two...”

Trailing off to take a deep, recovering breath, Elizabeth once more reads his mind. “I told you, this time was for you. Don’t worry about us. Besides, you aren’t strong enough.”

Neal knows she’s right, but he doesn’t want it to be just about him. If he’s going to do this, he wants it to be about the three of them. He also wants to know if he’s going to have a voice. So, he doesn’t relent, and instead gestures to the seat.

A smirk in his voice, Peter glances from the seat, then back to Neal. “You want to watch us.” It isn’t a question.

Not having thought that far, Neal catches his breath at being allowed that intimacy. His, “Yes,” is soft and breathless, but still heartfelt.

Making sure Neal is stable in the seat, Peter grins at Elizabeth and pulls her closer. Standing under the spray, he leans down to kiss her and run his hands over her body. She isn’t idle, either, reaching up to cup his face, scoring her nails softly over his neck and shoulders.

They are standing close enough for Neal to lift his arms and run his own hands over their flanks. He’s still weak, but with a feeling of trepidation at interloping, he does it. Both Peter and Elizabeth make small moans and reach down to place their hands over his. Elizabeth twines their fingers together and Peter gives his hand a squeeze.

Letting go, fingers trailing along his hand, Peter lifts Elizabeth around the waist. She lets go of Neal’s hand then, and Peter pivots with her, setting her feet down on the narrow platform Neal had noticed when he’d first entered the shower. He flushes with this clue as to what it’s there for.

With several inches added to her height, Peter is able to slip his cock between her thighs. Elizabeth closes them around his length, and Peter starts to thrust. Neal flushes more when he realizes Peter is rubbing against her, using the space between her thighs as a tunnel. From the angle he’s sitting, he can see the tip of Peter’s dick thrusting through to the other side, and knows that he has to be hitting her clit with every glide forward and back.

Not quite close enough to reach out and touch anymore, Neal watches, his gaze flitting between their faces and what’s happening lower. Elizabeth cries out, and Neal can see that Peter has gotten one of his hands in on the action, the other clamped around Elizabeth’s waist.

Mesmerized by the play of Peter’s hand on her body, it’s several moments before he tears his gaze away to look up at their faces again. Both of them are staring down at him, and Neal gasps at the intense weight of their eyes. He knows that if he were back in peak condition, he’d come again from those looks alone.

Even though he’s just sitting, Neal breathing speeds up to match theirs. His cock twitches against his thigh, but he knows that’s as far as it can go, tonight. He’s just too weak for more, as much as he hates to admit it.

Not dropping his eyes, he watches them as intently as they stare at him, and he can see when they tip over their edges, Peter just a split second behind his wife. Panting, Elizabeth leans her forehead against the shower wall, and Peter bends to rest his head on her shoulder. They hold the pose for just a few moments, and then straighten and turn to him.

Nothing is said, but Neal is happy to see how much more relaxed they both look than they had at the beginning of the shower. He hadn’t thought, yet, about how much strain his illness had to have put on them, and he’s glad he’d insisted they didn’t wait for their pleasure.

Turning off all the water, Peter helps Neal to his feet, and waits to see if he can stand before moving out of the shower. Peter and Elizabeth both grab towels and dry him off, quickly and efficiently. Neal figures it’s obvious he’s done in for the day. They dry each other off as well, and then head out of the bathroom.

Assuming they’ll guide him back to his room, he’s surprised when they steer him towards their bed. He looks between them and knows surprise must be clear on his face. Peter gives him an amused look. “What? Why else do you think we struggled to order a bigger bed and get it installed before you were better? If you accepted our offer, we didn’t want to spend another night apart. Now, get in.”

Dumbfounded at the thought they had bought a new bed, that they obviously wanted this that much, Neal doesn’t protest when they guide him into the middle and immediately surround him, both laying facing him, Elizabeth rubbing circles into his chest and Peter running a hand up and down his nearest arm.

Neal takes a deep breath, but before he can speak, Elizabeth shows her mind-reading capabilities aren’t confined to the shower. “Don’t thank us. We want this as much as you made it clear you did while delirious. Only, we were selfish at making it happen tonight. We should have waited until you were completely well.”

Shaking his head, Neal puts a hand over her’s on his chest and he looks back and forth between the two of them. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

Unable to keep his eyes open anymore, Neal feels himself starting to slip into slumber. Before he’s completely out, he realizes that he’s feeling safe and happy and genuinely cared for, for the first time in longer than he can remember. Just as he’s drifting off, he feels two arms, each a different size, lay across his abdomen, and he falls asleep with a smile on his face.


End file.
